Home

Tasha B
Literally Literary
Published in
1 min readNov 24, 2017

Home has never been a place, never a person, never even a feeling. Home has never been where my heart is, as the blood courses through me I can tell you. Hushed. Almost to a whisper, the icy cages in my mind housed me, that is what I called home.

Never leaving the confines of my home, I learnt that this is what they called a comfort zone. But mine was anything but, would you believe me if I said the world outside seemed scarier than the box I thought inside of?

They whispered, stay, this is all you’ve known, better the devil you know, stay. Freedom was always a foreign concept so I stayed, and I aged, and to think the only person I chained was myself. To this mindset that I was home, but to be honest, I never felt welcome.

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